Since becoming a mother back in the summer of 12′ (doesn’t have the same ring as ‘the summer of 69’ but whatever), I’ve noticed a curious propensity towards words and phrases that were previously complete unknowns in my vocabulary. Like the ability to remove snot from a nose that isn’t your own without choke vomiting and sensing that it’s your kid that needs a nappy change in a group of 12 other disposable wearers, it’s something that clearly lies inert within your DNA until called forth due to need and circumstance. There’s something so inherently ‘parent-ish’ about uttering ‘were you born IN A TENT?’ that I don’t think you can really avoid falling into this way of speaking. Yes, you may well feel like your own mother while doing it but really, resistance is futile. Roll with it I say and try busting out one of these crackers that is heard frequently floating through the corridors of (Not) Just A Mummy manor.

What do you think this is? Bush Week?

You change your mind like the weather

It’s like Blackpool Illuminations in here (that one is courtesy of my English husband).

You could break a cast iron marble (another one from El Husbando)

You make a better door than a window

No way Jose

Were you born in a tent?

Well I’d like a million dollars but that isn’t going to happen

Don’t get your knickers in a knot

Calm your farm

Full as a googie-egg

What a shemozzle (courtesy of my dad and his love of the word ‘Shemozzle’)